


5AM and On

by PlummyPlums



Category: Wick (Video Game)
Genre: Body Horror, Child Death, Gen, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nonbinary Character, Post-Canon, born of hyperfixation, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:21:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29325387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlummyPlums/pseuds/PlummyPlums
Summary: When Sam lit their candle and saw the ghost children all standing before them, they were ready to turn and run faster than they ever had.  However, they stopped in their tracks when they caught a glimpse of their hands.Aka Sam tries to manage as a new companion to the Weaver kids and the whole, y’know, being dead thing.
Kudos: 8





	1. Rotting

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to have more fun with my writing, so I'm just goin off instead of worrying too much about quality. Forgive me.

When Sam lit their candle and saw the ghost children all standing before them, they were ready to turn and run faster than they ever had. However, they stopped in their tracks when they caught a glimpse of their hands. It wasn’t that they forgot about the imminent threat standing in front of them, no, they were simply shocked to the core at the state of their hands. They looked like they belonged to someone else; boney, dry, and covered in cuts and scrapes. The dirt under their nails looked as if it had been there for ages, despite Sam knowing it wasn’t there less than an hour ago. Though they could see the muscle of their palms and knuckles, there was no blood, just slightly greyed flesh. They also didn’t hurt at all, despite their grisly appearance. It was like they were... _ decayed _ . The thought made them shudder.

Their attention was only drawn from their shaking hands when someone cleared their throat, making Sam snap their head up. The kids were still there, but they weren’t attacking like before. The ones with the masks stood together, the broken one seemingly hiding behind the other, who tilted his head as one would when asking a question. The mole child looked almost like he was smiling, kneeling before the largest child, who held the smallest, the girl in the bunny sweater. She held her hand out to Sam, as if wanting to hold theirs. Or was it some sort of welcoming gesture? Whatever was happening, Sam didn’t like it. They didn’t like it at all.

They inhaled sharply, stepping back from the kids, trying to form any coherent thoughts or words. The best they got was a confused yelp, nearly stumbling as they continued retreating. “Stay-stay back! Don’t hurt me!”

The masked ones flinched, the broken one huddling closer to the smiling one. The latter raised his hands, obviously trying to seem non-threatening. A voice came from behind the smiling countenance, surprisingly gentle. “We won’t hurt you. There’d be no point now, anyway.”

The girl spoke up next, voice echoing unnaturally. “I think you’re like us. Usually people don’t...stay, like we did.”

Sam paused, heart dropping. “Stay? What do you mean stay?! What’s going on?!”

“Isn’t it obvious?” the boy continued. If Sam thought about it, he sounded a bit more annoyed than before. “You’re dead.”

He continued on, but Sam wasn’t listening. Their mind seemed to stop entirely, just repeating what he’d said. They...they’d died? Gaze slowly shifting to their mutilated fingers, they tried to think of any other options, any other explanations, but none came.

Dead. They were dead.

Sam’s vision blurred as their eyes filled with tears, breathing picking up. They couldn’t die, they were only 16! They had a life to live! The idea of never seeing their friends again, never getting to grow up, never getting to do what they wanted with their life...it was overwhelming. They’d never complain about chores or school again, if just for the sake of being alive to deal with them. And their parents...God, their poor parents. Their mom would be devastated, and their dad would blame himself for not stopping them from leaving, they just knew it. How would they know what happened to Sam? Would their body be found? What if…?

They couldn’t bear to think about it anymore. A wracking sob overtook them, and they fell to their knees, unable to tear their eyes from their horrible, rotted hands.


	2. Awkward Introductions

They weren’t sure how long they cried for, but Sam was exhausted. When their tears finally dried up, they looked to find the kids were still there, the girl having moved to sit beside them. Her black eyes seemed sympathetic. Sam’s voice was thick as they asked, “Can...can I leave? Am I stuck here?”

The following silence told them all they needed to know. Sam sniffled, having expected this answer. Ghosts don’t just stick around because they want to, at least not ghosts like these. “So...is this the afterlife? We just turn into ghosts and get stuck where we died?”

They all seemed to stiffen at the mention of an afterlife, but if they were truly uncomfortable, no one said anything about it. “Most people don’t stay when they die. Our last few visitors didn’t. Just us...and now you,” the girl murmured. “If we could leave, we would’ve.”

Overwhelmed and on the verge of crying again, they tried to keep their cool. “So...I guess we’re all stuck here together, huh?”

The spirits nodded, obviously resigned to this fate. It was more than a bit awkward, considering they were the ones who killed Sam, but they didn’t seem to have a choice. It’s not like Sam chose to stay there (not counting the choice to play Wick in the first place). The uncomfortable silence that followed was eventually broken by the largest child. “We’re being rude, we should introduce ourselves. I’m Benny.”

 _Rude? You literally murdered me!_ Sam chose to keep their thoughts to themselves, not wanting to have a fight the moment they properly meet these kids. That discussion could wait, or never happen, if they didn’t feel like it. Honestly, they didn’t want to think about the fact that they were dead, and as long as they didn’t talk about it or look at themselves, they didn’t have to face it. Talking about literally anything else sounded great in that moment, so they took to the conversation, no matter how awkward and uncomfortable. “I’m Sam.”

He gave a sad smile. It was obvious he was just trying to be polite, perhaps as a way to make up for what had happened. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Sam. I’m, uh, sorry we had to meet like this.”

“I wanna go next!” the girl interjected, jumping to her feet. “I’m Lillian, and this is Caleb!” She gestured to the digger child, who nodded eagerly before repeating his name. The way his teeth clacked mixed with his raspy, dry voice made Sam shiver. “He doesn’t really talk, but he can repeat stuff!”

“Repeat!”

Benny chuckled. “Be careful what you say around him.”

Though a bit creeped out, they couldn’t help but chuckle at his energy. It reminded them of some of their friends’ younger siblings, always excited and wanting to show off.

Their train of thought was interrupted by the boy in the smiling mask. He seemed hesitant to speak to them. “I’m Tim, and this is my brother Tom. Before you ask, yes, we’re twins.” The one with the cracked mask—Tom—didn’t meet their eyes. Whether that was because of his obviously broken neck or shyness was unknown, though Sam was thinking the latter due to the way he shrunk behind Tim when they looked his way. At least looking at him didn’t mess with their eyes anymore, the effect he caused had given them a headache. The sight of bone poking through his flesh wasn’t that much better, however.

In fact, looking them over, the kids all looked pretty bad. Tim was covered in scrapes and breathed noticeably, as if forcing himself to get air (Did ghosts need air? Sam didn’t know). Lillian’s skin was blue-grey, and it looked like her clothes were wet, not to mention her pure black eyes. Caleb was near skeletal, rail-thin and with no eyes to speak of. Benny seemed the best off, just from what Sam could tell. It was unnerving, but also caused a bit of sympathy to grow in Sam. They were just kids, but it looked like they’d been through a lot. Maybe they had more in common than Sam would’ve guessed.

Without thinking, they asked, “How old are you guys?”

They looked surprised by the question, but gave their answers; Benny was the oldest at 14, followed the twins at 12, Caleb at 9, and Lillian a mere 5 years old (though she didn’t look it). “Before we died, anyway. No idea how old we are now, we haven’t kept track,” Tim noted.

Sam sighed. They didn’t remember much of the story behind Wick, so they couldn’t really estimate. “Let’s just go with what you remember.”

By then the sun was beginning to peek through the trees, and now that their adrenaline was wearing off, Sam was starting to feel the effects of being up all day and night. They yawned, and everything suddenly felt quite heavy. It was bedtime. The kids seemed to pick up on their coming question, and Lillian helped them up as the others stood. “C’mon, we sleep in the camp cabins. They still have beds and stuff in them!” She grinned, though Sam noticed she looked tired as well. “I can teleport us, it’s faster.”

Remembering the nauseating feeling when she’d teleported them before, Sam quickly shook their head, chuckling nervously. “It’s ok, I can walk.”

“Suit yourself!” She shrugged, disappearing in a sort of haze. Caleb dug into the ground with impressive speed, taking off in his little mole tunnel in the direction of the old summer camp. Tim seemed to take this as a challenge, taking off after his trail as if racing him to the cabins. His twin, seemingly not wanting to be left behind, also teleported away, leaving Sam to walk with Benny. They were in no rush, and followed the path to the campsite, watching the sun rise on the horizon.

They mostly walked in silence, but as they got closer, Benny spoke. “Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about...y’know. We didn’t know you’d get trapped here too.”

Sam’s thoughts buzzed like static, and they tried desperately to end this line of conversation. “It’s...it’s ok. I shouldn’t have played that stupid game in the first place. I just...I didn’t think it was real until it was already too late.” They didn’t say anything else until they arrived at the cabins. Benny led them to one of three cabins, saying the siblings all slept in the one just beside it, and bid them good day.

They tossed their bag on the dusty floor beside a bunk bed, flopping onto the old mattress and staring up at the one above. Despite being exhausted, it took Sam almost an hour to get to sleep.


End file.
